


down on the floor (and i don't know what i'm in for)

by wolfiction (ambivalent)



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: BBS, F/F, Kissing, emma can be quite slow on the uptake, regina likes to kiss and run, there is a lot of kissing, these two are hopeless idiots
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-19
Updated: 2013-10-19
Packaged: 2017-12-29 20:51:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,960
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1009966
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ambivalent/pseuds/wolfiction
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Regina Mills was a thorough woman. If she did anything, she did it thrice, methodically and efficiently. Regina would try anything at least once. If she liked it, then all was well. If she didn't, then she never touched it again with a ten foot pole. People could attest to it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	down on the floor (and i don't know what i'm in for)

**Author's Note:**

> Hello there. :waves:
> 
> This isn't my first time uploading a fanfic, but it is one in a long time.
> 
> This was inspired by a Mae West quote, actually. Inkfiction had been asking (more like pestering) me to write some SQ but I couldn't think of anything decent, until I stumbled upon the quote.
> 
> And let me tell you, if it wasn't for my beta, the lovely and relentless inkfiction here, this fic would have never seen the light of day nor have reached completion. She's a saint, I tell you, for putting up with me. Go tell her how awesome she is!
> 
> This is a magicless AU, it doesn't take the show into account and is based mostly (and loosely) on s1. The title of the fic is taken from Savage Garden's 'I Want You'. I suggest you check out that song if you haven't already.
> 
> Enjoy my lovelies. Don't forget to review! down

**Title:** down on the floor (and i don't know what i'm in for)  
 **Fandom:** Once Upon a Time  
 **Pairing:** Swan Queen (Emma Swan/Regina Mills)  
 **Spoilers/Warning:** None, really. Just my bbs, being idiots.  
 **Disclaimer:** This is purely fictional. I own none of it.

* * *

_I'll try anything once, twice if I like it, three times to make sure._

_**-Mae West** _

* * *

Regina Mills was a thorough woman. If she did anything, she did it thrice, methodically and efficiently. Regina would try anything at least once. If she liked it, then all was well. If she didn't, then she never touched it again with a ten foot pole. People could attest to it. Archie could recall quite vividly the three - quite unsettling - visits Regina had paid him, (truth be told, it was more like the Spanish Inquisition), to ensure that he was qualified to treat Henry. Ruby could attest to the three times Regina ordered Granny's Buttermilk Apple Cake and she could have sworn the expression on the Mayor's face showed that she was having something close to a food-gasm. Regina was big on food-gasms, among other things.

So it was no surprise, that she applied this particular approach to her relationships as well.

* * *

**i.**

It was a hot day in Storybrooke and Emma Swan was dressed accordingly. Regina agreed that Emma Swan was the bane of her existence, the cause of many sleepless nights, the reason behind her constant frustration, but she would admit, albeit grudgingly, that Emma Swan was a, 'hot, sexy piece of ass' as put crudely by the male locale that frequented the Rabbit's Hole.

Their observation was verified today by the sheer black top and faded jeans the Sheriff was wearing, hip cocked to one side, fingers toying with the Pyrrha swan necklace as she read a newspaper, leaning against her desk. Her hair was held up in a bun by two Bic pens, and Regina's fingers twitched to pull them out and mess up that hair. Push her down onto the table and –

Regina cleared her throat.

Emma turned around, her expression going from relaxed to alert and a bit wary, as it always did when Regina was around. "Madam Mayor." She greeted politely, with a small nod of her head.

"Sheriff."

"What brings you to my humble desk?" Her skin was flushed pink and a light sheen of perspiration covered the parts of her toned body which were visible. She cocked an eyebrow at the Mayor's attire. "Seriously, Regina? A coat on a scorching hot day? You must be boiling in that."

"How nice of you to show concern for my well-being, Sheriff, though I hate to disappoint you. I assure you I will not be getting a heat stroke anytime soon."

Emma rolled her eyes. "There you go, shattering my dreams into a million pieces again."

Regina smiled, the 'oh-so-sorry-but-I'm-not-really' smile. "I hope this soothes your broken soul." She handed Emma the box. The box was very important. It was the one which would help her accomplish her goal, if all went according to plan.

Emma took the box cautiously, giving the Mayor a mild version of her own 'what-the-hell-is-this' look, opening it. The wariness drained out of her body upon discovering there wasn't a grenade or someone's bloodied entrails in it. "Cinnamon rolls? What's the occasion?"

"Cinnamon rolls with cream cheese glaze, actually. I realized that I have yet to congratulate you on becoming Sheriff and this is my way of doing it. Try one, why don't you?"

Emma gazed down at the baked goods, looking like she was entertaining the possibility of poison.

"They're not poisoned," Regina said wryly, finding that the way Emma nibbled on her bottom lip indecisively was quite charming, and a bit distracting. The baked delicacy was a key element. Emma had to eat them for the plan to succeed.

"Guess I'll have to take your word for it," Emma took a tentative bite from one of the rolls. Regina observed as the Sheriff's eyes grew wide at the taste. It was quite similar to Henry's and Graham's reactions when they both had tried the pastries. The Sheriff took a much larger bite, the green eyes closed, and a moan escaped her mouth, signaling that the Sheriff was having a food-gasm.

"Thiff iff sho guuuud," Emma managed through another mouthful. Regina noticed the little blob of cream on Emma's upper lip and smirked. The rolls had reduced Emma to a near food-coma state, something which was common, and it was the very thing Regina had wanted. Nobody could resist the Mayor's cooking, no one, not even Mr. Gold.

Emma, noticing the unnerving way Regina was looking at her, swallowed. "Is there something on my face?" She raised a hand as if to wipe away any wayward crumbs, and that's when Regina made her move, swooping down on Emma's mouth like a bird, er, woman of prey.

Emma's lips were soft, quite soft actually, and smooth. What lip-balm did she use? Carmex? Regina made a mental note to ask her later. Licking away at the sour cream that she swore tasted much better this way, she delved her tongue further into the soft, warm mouth, eager for more. Emma tasted like coffee and cinnamon rolls and cherry flavored gum. An odd combination, but Regina liked it. Cupping the slightly dazed Sheriff's face in her hands, she pushed in, wanting more of the taste and heat of the soft mouth.

The other woman had been stunned into silence and shock, something Regina had previously thought impossible. It took little to faze Emma Swan, but knowing it was her, Regina Mills, who had done this, pleased the Mayor greatly.

Air was a necessity and Regina, who had enjoyed kissing the living daylights out of the town's Sheriff, liked to have a healthy amount of oxygen in her lungs, thank you very much. She gently detached herself from Emma's mouth and patted her shoulders. "Well, then I'll be going now. Congratulations on becoming Sheriff. Good day, Miss Swan."

Regina began to walk away in a business-like fashion, paused and stopped half-way out of the door, before turning around as if remembering something. "Oh and what lip balm do you use? Carmex or EOS?"

Blinking and gaping like a fish, Emma managed to answer. "Bees. Burt's Bees."

"Burt's? I must say, it's working quite fine."

* * *

**ii.**

It was Christmas and everyone was gathered at Granny's Diner. The celebration had somehow led to an eggnog drinking contest between Mary Margaret and Leroy, who were downing one after another while everyone else cheered them on (who knew Mary Margaret had a hollow leg?). Emma watched them, content with nursing a Cherry Coke and watching them go at it. It wouldn't do for the town Sheriff to be drinking while on-duty.

But no amount of Cherry Coke (or alcohol, when Emma was free to indulge behind closed doors) could wipe away the memory of the kiss that had happened in her office two weeks ago. Damn. It wasn't as if Emma hadn't been kissed before, no, she'd had a few lovers who knew how to kiss. But none of them had kissed her like that, like they wanted to eat her alive. That was the kind of kiss you gave to someone you wanted to devour, like you couldn't get enough of them. When Regina had kissed her, Emma had felt…consumed. Actually, she was getting hot under the collar, like, right now, it was probably the jacket, she should really take it off –

"Sheriff."

Emma jumped, startled, upending her glass all over her lap and cursed. _Think of the devil!_

"Shit," she swore, reaching for napkins to wipe her jeans.

"My apologies for startling you, Sheriff." The she-devil didn't sound sorry at all.

"What do you want, Regina?" Emma said, frantically dabbing at her lap with a napkin.

"Just came by to give you your present." Emma looked up and the next instant found herself, once again, with a mouthful of tongue, sticky, soda-soaked napkins clutched in her fists.

_Not again_ , thought a small part of Emma's brain while the rest of it had been reduced to thoughtless mush. The kiss was just the same as before: hot, full of tongue, even better than the previous one, if possible, and Emma could do nothing but take it. Not that she minded, not really. It was the most action the Sheriff had gotten in a long time, and damn if she was complaining, but a small part of her screamed – a small part that mostly went ignored – that this was _the Mayor_ she was kissing, her _boss_ , the woman who lived to make her miserable. The same woman was kissing her senseless.

But that didn't matter, not right now.

Regina pulled away, much sooner than Emma would have liked, (but damn her if she was going to admit that out loud!) and then she was pressing something into her hand, Emma heard her say something like, "Merry Christmas, Sheriff."

Emma wasn't quite sure what had taken place. She just sat there with a dazed look on her face, until Ruby showed up, asking her why was she sitting there like she had seen a ghost and why did she smell of cherry?

Emma looked up at her when she waved a hand in front of her face, her vibrantly painted nails a red streak in front of her eyes.

"Hey Em?" Ruby said. "You okay? You look weirded out, and what is that in your hand? Wow, those look expensive."

Emma looked down at the little box in her hand and yep, expensive was the right word. As Ruby cooed over the contents, attracting the attention of the other females, Emma couldn't help but feel like a concubine who had been paid by her master (in this case, mistress) for her services.

Nestled in the plush velvet, the two silver earrings glinted up at her merrily.

* * *

**iii.**

Work on Emma's bug ended on a Sunday. Emma had decided to do some much needed tuning up on the old Volkswagen, and was currently lying under it on a skateboard, breathing in the pungent smell of car oil and petrol. The radio blasted a cheery Savage Garden tune, with Emma singing along under her breath.

_Any time I need to see your face_  
I just close my eyes and I am taken  
to a place where your crystal mind and  
magenta feelings take up shelter in the base  
of my spine-

"- sweet like a chic-a-cherry cola," she sang, and then grunted, as she twisted the bolt back into place with one final twist of the wrench. "There!"

"Hey, you done yet?" Mary Margaret inquired from somewhere next to the car, lowering the volume. "You've been in the garage the whole morning. Lunch is almost ready."

"Almost done," Emma grunted again. "Just need to tie up some loose ends and I'll be up with you."

"Good. Although judging by the numerous oil stains on those hideous overalls, I suggest you shower in the garage as well."

"And give the whole neighborhood an uncensored view of my hot bod? Tempting, but I'll pass."

"Darn, and here I was thinking I could take some pictures and sell them on eBay. I better go check on the pie. Need anything?"

"All that talk about getting wet has made me thirsty. A cool glass of water would be nice."

"Coming right up," she said and the sound of her heels clicking away faded.

Emma was pulling out from under the Bug when the click clack of heels walking her way sounded again. "You're a godsend Mary Margaret you have no idea – " The rest of her sentence was cut off with someone pulling her forward roughly by the straps of her overalls, there was a sudden, gentle weight on top of her, and then that someone smashed their mouth with hers.

_Regina!_

This one was all tongue and teeth and lips. And sloppy and wet, but damn was it hot and made her moan. Emma decided to stop being a goddamn onlooker and jumped in to participate with gusto, grabbing the lapels of Regina's coat and pulling her closer, biting down on her lower lip and pushing her tongue into Regina's mouth, dominating the kiss.

They separated, breathing hard and their gazes met.

_Ooh I want you, I don't know if I need you but_  
Ooh I'd die to find out  
  
Regina looked away first.

She tastes like apples and mint mouthwash, mused Emma, leaning back, weight supported by her hands, watching Regina get up and adjust her coat. Emma allowed herself a smile, when the Mayor's hands came away oily.

"Sorry," said Emma, not sounding sorry at all. There was a perverse satisfaction in seeing the Mayor's white shirt smeared with black oil stains.

Regina calmly pulled out a handkerchief from her pants pocket and wiped her hands on it. "Not a problem, Miss Swan. I suppose I cannot expect you to keep your hands to yourself."

"Not when I'm being attacked by a wild animal. I needed to defend myself or risk getting eaten alive."

"If I properly recall, there were no protests from your side." Here she stopped and regarded Emma with a neutral and serious gaze, not giving anything away. "Well, I will be seeing you around, I suppose."

"Yeah, sure."

Regina nodded, bid her a "Good day, Miss Swan," and walked off in that brisk way of hers. Emma got up herself, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand and licking her lips, watching her walk away and disappear around the corner.

Mary Margaret showed up not long after, (hell, if she'd shown up five or so minutes earlier, she would have been treated to a view of the two of them going at it like hormonal teenagers), holding the promised glass of water. "Here you go – what happened to your face? Is – is that lipstick?"

"No," said Emma. "Must be motor grease."

-

**iv.**

  
Emma headed to the Mayor's office with a sense of purpose and a bouquet of roses.

She had had about enough of Regina's weirdness. It had been a month since the weird kissing incidents which Emma referred to as the 'Regina Mills' Version of Hit and Run.' Or was it a Kiss and Run? Regina hadn't come back since their last one. And Emma felt, in a way, that she had been stood up.

Emma Swan did not take lightly to being stood up. She did not take to it. At all. Nuh-uh.

She barged in, ignoring the secretary's shouts about the Mayor being in a meeting, and barreled on towards the Mayor's office. She threw the door open shouting, "Why haven't you been kissing me? Why? I demand to know!"

Okay, not exactly one of Emma's stellar moments, but it had been over a month since she'd been snogged within an inch of her life and she was seriously frustrated.

Regina's eyes went wide as she stood up. "I beg your pardon, Miss Swan?"

Sidney shoved the recorder in Emma's face (had the guy teleported or something?). 'Could you repeat that statement?'

Emma looked down at Sidney, baffled, as if trying to figure out where he had appeared from, and Regina spoke. "Out, Sidney. OUT! And give me that recorder. Don't you _dare_ put that in tomorrow's issue of the Mirror or I swear I will strangle you with your own entrails!"

Sidney let out a not so manly squeak, shoved the recorder at Emma who barely managed to catch it, and made himself scarce.

Regina turned her enraged gazed towards Emma, who was unfazed, and said, "What is the meaning of this, Sheriff? And why on earth are you holding a bouquet?"

Emma stomped over to the desk and shoved said bouquet into Regina's face, her own face turning as red as the flowers themselves. "This is for you."

Regina sneezed, batting the flowers away. "Miss Swan," she coughed, "get that away from me. Why are you here?"

Emma pouted, though she would later deny that she had. "You haven't been attacking me like you used to."

Regina sputtered. "I never... I did no such thing."

Emma resisted the urge to hit Regina with the tape recorder and settled for waving it around to emphasize her point.

"No, you did many such things! Several such things. Several times," Emma continued enthusiastically, and then drooped a little. "Why won't you do them anymore?" she complained, a whine entering into her voice.

Regina seemed at a loss for words for a moment.

"And you brought the flowers because?"

Emma hid her face behind the flowers she had retracted from the Mayor's face. "Becauseireallymissit."

Regina leaned over the desk. "I'm sorry, Sheriff, I didn't catch that."

Emma snapped and waved the bouquet like a lunatic, showering Regina's desk with rose petals. "I really miss it okay, I said it! There, happy?"

Regina raised an amused eyebrow, "Sheriff, are you telling me you want more?"

And really, by that point Emma had reached her limit, so she decided to take matters into her own hands. She threw the bouquet down, tossed the tape recorder away where it landed with a clatter somewhere behind her, and reached for Regina, crushing her mouth against hers and effectively cutting short Regina's dilly dallying.

"Oomph," said Regina as she reached for the Sheriff's jacket with one hand, pulling her close, her other hand sinking into blond curls.

* * *

I think it was safe to say that Emma Swan had clearly passed the three time trial with flying colors.

* * *

**A/N:** _The end! Here's your cookie and don't forget to leave a review on your way out! Thank you for reading._


End file.
